 founded on circumstances she could fully
explain to none, least of all to Shirley, seemed, in all eyes but her own,
incomprehensible and fantastic, and was opposed accordingly.
    There really was no present pecuniary need for her to leave a comfortable
home and take a situation; and there was every probability that her uncle might
in some way permanently provide for her. So her friends thought, and, as far as
their lights enabled them to see, they reasoned correctly: but of Caroline's
strange sufferings, which she desired so eagerly to overcome or escape, they had
no idea, - of her racked nights and dismal days, no suspicion. It was at once
impossible and hopeless to explain: to wait and endure was her only plan. Many
that want food and clothing have cheerier lives and brighter prospects than she
had; many, harassed by poverty, are in a strait less afflictive.
    »Now, is your mind quieted?« inquired Shirley. »Will you consent to stay at
home?«
    »I shall not leave it against the approbation of my friends,« was the reply;
»but I think in time they will be obliged to think as I do.«
    During this conversation Mrs. Pryor looked far from easy. Her extreme
habitual reserve would rarely permit her to talk freely, or to interrogate
others closely. She could think a multitude of questions she never ventured to
put; give advice in her mind which her tongue never delivered. Had she been
alone with Caroline, she might possibly have said something to the point: Miss
Keeldar's presence, accustomed as she was to it, sealed her lips. Now, as on a
thousand other occasions, inexplicable nervous scruples kept her back from
interfering. She merely showed her concern for Miss Helstone in an indirect way,
by asking her if the fire made her too warm, placing a screen between her chair
and the hearth, closing a window whence she imagined a draught proceeded, and
often and restlessly glancing at her. Shirley resumed, -
    »Having destroyed your plan,« she said, »which I hope I have done, I shall
construct a new one of my own. Every summer I make an excursion. This season I
propose spending two months either at the Scotch lochs or the English lakes:
that is, I shall go there, provided you consent to accompany me: if you refuse,
I shall not stir a foot.«
    »You are very good, Shirley.«
    »I would be very good, if you would let me: I have every disposition to be
good
